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Cearule Hovngarde
Appearance Cearule stands at 5"9', relatively slim for this height, though this is not really noticeable due to her choice of clothing. Her chest is covered by a loose, sleeveless, completely white shirt. This is again covered by an either beige or purple jacket with buttons, only the bottom two buttoned to just cover her belt and support two pouches, one on either side, filled to the brim with things that Cearule may need now and then. There's various seemingly empty pockets in her jacket besides the pouches. At her shoulders is black, fading into the color of the jacket she's wearing. Her hair would be usual for someone with long hair, going down to the third button of her jacket, just below her bosom, this only on her left side though. The right side reveals yet another pocket. On her back, her hair is somewhat curled, just as long as on the front. Her pants are mostly covered by the jacket, on the back cut out by a reverse V-shape. That which is seen of her pants is either blue or beige, that which the jacket she wears is not. This is, again, just as her shirt, rather loose, and would certainly fall down if not for being held by a belt that cannot be seen. Her shoes are black and there's absolutely nothing special about them, except for maybe the fact their sole has more grip on any surface than normal shoes do. The only thing that would hint at her athletic skills would be that the inside of her hands is somewhat rough from the clinging onto rooftops, ropes and walls. History To get the best impression of Cearule, this will be written as if Cearule's telling you this. Cearule breathes in, raising her head somewhat. Her left pointing finger raises to her mouth to pull her lip down slightly. "Weeeeell..." she mutters. "I'm from a little farming village..." Her voice sounds questioning, as if she doesn't entirely remember herself. Maybe she doesn't. "Across the northern borders... Thym. That's where I am from. But the little settlement I lived in had no name..." She looks at you again, a happy giggle coming from her lips before she talks. "Everybody just used to call it the little farming village, since we only had like seven people living there, of which four were really really old. Like, grandpa old." She thinks again. "We lived next to a river, and across that river was a forest. It's where I spent moth of my youth. I had my brother do the farming work for me, my parents just thought a woman shouldn't be working." She pits her hands on the table, tapping her left hand. "Like, here's the village..." She draws a line right of the hand that's supposed to represent the village. "That's the river." She then puts the hand that was just showing the river right of the other hand. "And that's the forest." Cearule pauses again for a short moment to hold up her hands, turning them around to see if anything's gotten on them. Satisfied that nothing did, she looks you into the eyes, her lips curling into a smile. "When I was twelve or something and I had nobody to play with because everyone was busy I went into the forest. I found arrows in trees occasionally." She taps on her quiver. "I took them with me. I still have a few of them I think..." The bench squeaks silently as Cearule spreads her arms across the back of the bench and she leans backwards something. "Few years later I almost got shot by one of the arrows, Fae ran up to me, apologized until her throat got sore. Met her again next day." She falls silent again, lowering her gaze away from your eyes, staring at the table. Her smile slowly widens. "She was really nice..." Cearule whispers, still lost in thought somewhat. "Ylla was her name. She taught me so much. We were best friends. I'm not sure if it was because of her feeling guilty about almost shooting me or because of us just liking each other. What I do know is that I because a great archer and herbalist due to her." She now taps on the pouch attached to her right side. "She taught me all the plants. I think. At least a whole lot. Still use it a lot." Silence fills the room for a bit more, Cearule having moved her finger up to pull down her lip, as before. "Eight? I think it were eight. Eight years later she told me she was going to move. Hated it." Cearule shrugs. "Oh well. Lived at the farm for one more year, then I decided to travel to Terra. My parents didn't mind, I still write letters to them every week or so." She lets go one last giggle, her entire face brightening up. "Not really interesting, is it." she asks you, her head tilting diagonally. "What about you?" Category:Human